


The Watcher

by roane, wintergrey



Series: The Blood-Dimmed Tide [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Espionage, Gen, Minor Character Death, Post-Black Widow Hunt, debriefing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1688861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roane/pseuds/roane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintergrey/pseuds/wintergrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They have reams of stolen intel on the Red Room training. Coulson knows, he’s read most of it. There’s not a single case of an agent breaking the programming. He knows. He’s looked."</p><p>In the wake of HYDRA's infiltration and takeover, remnants of SHIELD still remain and try to fight the good fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Watcher

“She shot me.” Barton starts talking the moment the door opens. “She shot me,” he says again, as though saying it over and over is the only way he can bring himself believe it. A medic applies butterfly bandages to a gash on his cheek. “She shot me—through my scope. With a handgun. In the dark. Me.” There’s something more than frustration in his voice.

“Next time, when I call you off, don’t hang around ogling the pretty girls.” Coulson figures he should be more upset, but with the events of the past six months ‘more upset’ is becoming relative.

“Don’t--” Barton opens his mouth, then closes it, brushing away the medic. “She _shot out_ my scope, Coulson. No one should have been able to make that shot.”

“Black Widow agents,” he said. “I warned you.”

“We’re fucked.” Barton sits back, scrubbing at the blood drying beneath the bandages. “Pym’s dead, and they sniffed out the trap.”

He doesn’t respond, but turns to lead the way out of the cargo area.

“What do you look so happy for?” Barton follows him into the lounge area of the Bus, towards Coulson’s office.

“We know who we’re up against here. Your marksman girlfriend proves it.”

Agent May is waiting. Anyone else trying to read her would see a blank expression. Coulson knows her better. She’s got good news. What passes for good news on a day like this, anyway. Once the door is closed behind them, she says, “Agent Triplett radioed, they’re at the extraction point.”

“Go take over in the cockpit and get us there,” Coulson says, then presses a section of his desk, bringing up the display. “The question is,” he says, as May is leaving, “what do the Russians want with Dr. Pym’s research, and why would they kill him to get it?”

Barton flops into one of the cushioned seats along the curved wall. “Maybe they’re like us, they didn’t want HYDRA to have it.”

“The Russians.” Coulson sighed. “The Cold War was a lot simpler than this. Who knew they’d wind up as a super power again?” The World Security Council belonged to HYDRA, which meant so did the US and a good chunk of her allies. Russia was one of the few nations to stand aloof--and they weren’t interested in playing nice with anyone else.

“Sir.” Barton never says ‘sir’ unless it’s serious. “There’s something else. Something was off.” Coulson stays quiet. “Everything we’ve seen so far, these agents are nothing but killing machines, right? So how come the one who shot me threw herself in front of her partner when I had her in my sights?”

“Say that again.” Coulson turned his attention from the computer screen.

“She had the chip. I’d swear to it. She could’ve made a clean escape while I took out her partner.”

“But that’s not--”

“Not in their training,” Barton finishes for him. “I know. The body language was all wrong. Her partner, she was just what you’d expect. Dead doll’s eyes. Efficient and deadly. But _her_ ,” he shakes his head. “Somebody was home in there.”

They have reams of stolen intel on the Red Room training. Coulson knows, he’s read most of it. There’s not a single case of an agent breaking the programming. He knows. He’s looked.

“Who was I trying to kill, Coulson?”

“I thought I knew.” It takes him a second to recognize the flutter in his gut as hope. There’s been precious little of that over the past year. Hank Pym’s research had been a glimmer, just a glimmer. His loss was a body blow to what was left of SHIELD. They’d lost so many people over the past year--hundreds before they’d managed to blow HYDRA’s Project Insight out of the sky--it hardly seemed possible that one more could make such an impact. Coulson could still hear Janet Pym’s screams over the comms, so he knew otherwise.

If only the man hadn’t been so damned _paranoid_. Ironic that all his caution got him killed and cost SHIELD his research.

“What do we do now?” Barton’s voice brings him back to the here and now.

“We take back what she stole.” And maybe, just maybe, they get back what the Russians stole decades ago.

“What about the second team? The ones that pulled the trigger on Pym?”

Coulson isn’t ready to talk about that yet. “Worry about the chip first.”

“You know this doesn’t make any sense, right?” Barton leans back and puts his feet on the chair across from him. “Why would the Russians come after us? We’re practically on the same damn side.”

“Tell the Russians that.” Coulson pauses. “And get your feet off the furniture.” Barton moves his feet. “Go finish up with the medic. I need some time to plan here.”

Office to himself finally, Coulson pulls up the display. “Open file: Winter Soldier Project, cross reference Operation: Rebirth.”

An array of photographs, old lab reports, and links to video open up on his screen. He scrolls until he finds what he wants, a report that was typed up on SHIELD letterhead and stamped TOP SECRET sometime in the late 1940s.

Reports that SHIELD agents Steven G. Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes survived through the end of the war despite casualty reports to the contrary have been confirmed. Our agents in Leningrad report that both men have been indoctrinated into the Soviet “Winter Soldier Project”.

Barnes has undergone augmentation, including a mechanical arm. There are as yet no indications that Rogers has been augmented beyond the original Operation: Rebirth serum.

Both men are to be considered highly dangerous SHIELD enemies, as they appear now to have no loyalty to anything but the Red Room Academy (cf. Black Widow Program).

Gentlemen, I regret to say, these two men are lost to us and to our cause.

The report is signed “Margaret Carter, Assistant Director”.

There’s a handful of people now alive who know that this report exists. Coulson glances up to the top of the display, where an official photograph--one of the few in existence-- of Rogers and his Howling Commandos shows a group of battle-hardened men wearing the uncomfortable smiles of rowdy children cleaned up for their class photo. After his death in 1945, Captain America became one of those World War II legends, like the Red Baron or Audie Murphy, larger-than-life men that had vanished from the world stage, for better or worse.

But what if? Heroes are thin on the ground these days. What if one could come back?


End file.
